


Empty Chairs At Empty Tables

by PBJellie



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, But It's Kenny So You Know, Character Study, Immortality, Last Person On Earth, M/M, Outliving Your Friends, Post-Apocalypse, South Park Drabble Bomb, Stream of Consciousness, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Kenny reflects on his life now that everyone he knows is dead.Damien desires to be someone who knows him.Written for the South Park Drabble Bomb Day 5: Proposal





	Empty Chairs At Empty Tables

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty angsty and Kenny has a lot of suicidal thoughts that come up. Keep yourself safe.
> 
> Song is Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Mis

“We should date,” Damien said while poking a man with one of his wings. The man shrieked, but Damien paid no mind. Kenny was tired of this. Tired of watching Damien torture some sad sack. He was tired of Damien’s smug face, fangs sinking into his lips.

“Yeah, I’m phasing out, so we’ll have to continue this conversation the next time I drown myself. Good talk,” Kenny snorted, feeling himself levitate back to earth. He kicked a rock in the town where he once lived in. He supposed that he still lived there, but his friends didn’t.

No one did. 

He’d starve to death inevitably. Or bang his head against a rock until he died. Or, if he was lucky, and Kenny McCormick was not lucky, he’d find a gun that was still working, and shoot himself between the eyes. 

He’d be back to see Damien in short order, that was certain. He was not certain if he’d rather be the last living being on Earth, or if he’d rather see Damien again. It was a toss-up. 

“Fuck this,” Kenny screamed, to no one, as he was alone. How long had he been wandering through this wasteland? They didn’t even have trees anymore. His stomach rumbled, but he ignored it. There was no other option but to ignore it. 

He wondered, because all he did was think nowadays. He thought, and he died, and he ran away from Damien; that was his life. He wondered, if he ever managed to stay alive for long enough in this hellscape long enough, if he’d get the residual bullshit from the fallout. He died over and over from the immediate fallout. It took the sting out of watching his friends and family die. 

No, it really didn’t. That was a lie he told himself to deal with this bullshit. 

“Oh fuck,” he murmured as he tumbled off of a bridge. He forgot that it was collapsed. It had only been collapsed for the last million lifetimes he spent on Earth. How could he ever forget? 

And he was dead again, sitting in a chair in front of Damien who was burning some lady. She screamed so much, and Kenny understood, sometimes you just want to scream, but could she do it in a less distracting way? Could she afford him that small comfort? 

No, of course not, he thought as she continued shrieking like it was going to change anything. 

“Nice to see you again,” Damien smiled, those fangs still indenting his skin ever so slightly. 

“Wish I could say the same,” Kenny grumbled, glaring at the lady who was still making so much noise, like anything in the universe gave two shits about her. Newsflash, the universe doesn’t give two shits about anyone. 

“Did you think about my proposal?” Damien snapped his fingers, sending the woman away. Kenny would have thanked him if he wasn’t certain it’d go right to his head. 

“Oh there was a proposal? It must have gotten lost in all of my other human interaction. Just flew right under my radar, bud.” 

“Very funny, Kenneth. You were always quite the charmer. I like that about you. I like you,” Damien’s cheeks were starting to blush. Christ, this kid was the son of Satan and here he was blushing. 

“Go plow Pip, I know he’s back at the palace,” Kenny jeered, hoping he’d be teleported back to Earth. 

“Oh, I do in fact have relations with Philip, or plow him, as you say,” Damien snorted, “but I am also capable of liking you.” 

“I’m not,” Kenny said, feeling his body start to float off of the floor. 

And he wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t. Had he been capable in the past? Sure. He had been perfectly loving with Kyle, and with Butters, and with a few of the survivors, until they all petered out. 

Speaking of those survivors, there he was in one of the old makeshift tents. Kenny thought, not secretly, because there were no people to keep secrets from, that Damien intentionally picked places to send him that would upset him. His mother had told Karen that the boys at school teased her because they had crushes. Kenny kicked a rock as hard as he could, because fuck his memory. 

Fuck remembering his family saying grace around a rickety card table while eating frozen waffles and powdered milk. They weren’t here. How dare he be forced to remember them. How dare he be forced to be alone in a world like this. How dare he be forced to exist?

“I like you,” Kenny mocked as he climbed into a rusted out car. It would certainly give him tetanus, but lockjaw would never come to fruition. No, of course not. Maybe a meteor would strike the world again. That could be something to see for a minute. A minute before he died. He had lots of those minutes. 

He rifled around in the car, searching for something useful. Anything useful. 

Of course, there was nothing useful for Kenny. The guns in the area had long since ran out of bullets. He had raided all of Ned and Jimbo’s supply, those loveable old rednecks.

It’s funny how when everyone is dead you start to miss their idiosyncrasies. Jimbo never carded him to buy weapons, not even when he was ten. He just looked at him in the eyes, back when Kenny wore that stupid parka, and asked “son, are you gonna shoot any folks with this here rifle?” 

“No, ‘course not, Mr. Kern, sir. I just want it to go a ‘huntin with my paw,” he replicated in the same corny Southern draw he had adopted way back when. Jimbo had nodded and given him a free scope for the gun, saying it was real good for grouse. 

Kenny had a lot of grouses, so it was nice to shoot them sometimes. He never did use the scope. 

Had Kyle still been alive, he’d have laughed at his dark humor. And Stan would laugh along, even though he didn’t understand. Cartman would have called them all fags, which in fairness they were, and waved them off while he chuckled along under his breath. 

“It was a really funny joke, guys,” Kenny grumbled, as he lost his footing. The asphalt was broken from the war, or maybe it was from the drought, perhaps the flooding. He didn’t even get have a chance to get hungry this time, he thought as he bled out onto the street. 

“Seriously, Ken,” Damien stood in front of him. There was no one else. 

“Seriously, Dame,” Kenny repeated, huffing as he crossed his arms. 

“Let’s just fucking date,” Damien roared, “we’re the last two cognizant beings allowed to leave Hell. We should date. Explore Earth, do something. I’m so fucking bored. I turned Pip into a fucking snake and that didn’t even help.” 

“Why did you turn him into a snake?” Kenny asked, eyes scanning around the empty torture chamber.

“To fuck him, shit, I thought you knew these things.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have snakes to fuck anymore. There’s no living organisms of Earth, just me. I lost the luxury of bestiality long ago,” Kenny sneered, lip turned up in disgust. 

“God maybe if you came every once in a while, you wouldn’t be such a sourpuss.” 

“Are you fucking seriously calling me a sourpuss? You’re the son of goddamn Satan and the best insult you can think of is sourpuss? That’s weak,” Kenny rolled his eyes, praying for the sweet release of life.

“Just date me and we can walk around Earth and fuck in abandoned monuments. Come on, don’t be so stubborn,” Damien pleaded. The Anti-Christ pleading was not a good look, Kenny decided.

“Fucking fine, but I top. Every time. You want a bottom and you can go talk to snake boy, you little pervert.” 

“Yeah, of course, grab my hand before you leave so we can go together,” Damien was smiling. Honest to God, or Satan (no, actually fuck both of them), smiling. “I was thinking we go to the Statue of Liberty and screw there, first.” 

“Don’t care,” Kenny muttered as they passed through the Earth’s crust. “Don’t give two shits.”

**Author's Note:**

> This concludes Kenny Drabble Bomb week. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
